Chapter 11 - The Sonoma Runway
The tires of our SUV screamed as we tore down the dark, winding backroads of Sonoma County, hitting over ninety miles an hour.
Above us, the heavy storm clouds finally broke, unleashing a torrential downpour that turned the asphalt into slick black glass. Rain lashed against the windshield, the wipers slapping back and forth in a frantic rhythm.
"Detective Reynolds has three state trooper cruisers converging on the airstrip," Lawson reported from the front seat, checking his tactical tablet. "Target aircraft is a twin-engine private charter, tail number November-4-4-Vance. Engines are currently spooling up on Runway 2."
"Cut through the service gate," I commanded. "Don't let that plane take off."
Lawson didn't hesitate. As we approached the perimeter of the private airfield, our heavy armored SUV smashed directly through the chain-link security gate, sending metal poles and warning signs flying through the rainy darkness.
Ahead of us, illuminated by the bright runway lights, a sleek white private jet was slowly taxiing toward the main runway.
Beside the tarmac, near an open hangar, stood Julian Vance. He was dragging Maya by her hair toward the boarding stairs, while a private mercenary held her two crying children inside a black town car.
"Julian!" I screamed, rolling down my window as our SUV slid sideways across the wet tarmac, blocking the jet's path.
Julian froze, turning toward our headlights. He looked wild, desperate, his expensive suit soaked with rain. He pulled a semi-automatic handgun from his waistband and pressed it against Maya's temple.
"Back off!" Julian screamed over the roar of the jet engines. "Back the fuck off or I'll blow her brains all over the tarmac! Get in your car and back away!"
Lawson and our security team stepped out, using the SUV doors as cover, their rifles trained squarely on Julian's chest.
"Put the gun down, Julian!" Lawson projected his voice with deafening authority. "You're surrounded! State Police are thirty seconds out!"
"I don't care!" Julian yelled hysterically, his finger tightening on the trigger. "My life is over anyway! If I'm going down, everyone is going down with me!"
I stepped out from behind the armored door, raising my hands slowly into the pouring rain.
"Julian, look at me," I called out, my voice cutting through the storm.
He shifted his gaze toward me, his eyes wide and manic. "Claire... you should have just handed over the money, you stupid bitch! None of this had to happen!"
"The money is gone, Julian," I said calmly, stepping forward into the glare of the headlights. "I just had Marcus execute an emergency international freeze with the Swiss Banking Authority. The eighty million in Zurich is locked. Even with the encryption key, you can't touch a single cent."
Julian’s face went completely blank. "You're lying."
"Check your phone, Julian," I said, holding his gaze with unflinching certainty. "Your accounts are zeroed. Your lawyers have abandoned you. Charles just signed a full confession at the precinct to avoid the death penalty, and he put the blame for Rebecca's murder entirely on you and Adrian."
"No... no, Dad wouldn't do that," Julian stammered, his hand beginning to shake violently. "Dad promised we would get out..."
"Charles only cares about Charles," I said softly. "You know that. You've known it your whole life."
In that split second of hesitation and betrayal, Maya saw her opening.
She drove her elbow back with all her strength into Julian’s ribs, ducking low and breaking free from his grip.
May you like
"Drop the weapon!" Lawson roared.
Julian raised his gun toward Maya—and a sharp, deafening rifle crack split the night.
